100
by Tech Duinn
Summary: A series of drabbles totaling 100 words each-at least according to my word processor-posted in groups of threes. Any universe, any genre, anything goes. While some installments form a semi-cohesive narrative, each drabble is a stand-alone. Mainly K/S, with mentions of K or S /other.
1. Chapter 1

Midnight

Spock wakes to the sensation of the mattress depressing at his sides as his lover shifts above him. Blindly, he reaches out to grip Jim's hips, and pulls him to lie flush against his front. Chapped lips trail across Spock's eyelids and down his cheek, then pause to press soft, suckling kisses onto his neck. Spock responds with languid fervor when those lips glide up his jaw and across his chin to capture his own, and he allows himself to smile when Jim gently pulls away to tuck his head beneath Spock's chin.

Midnight interruptions have never been so pleasurable.

* * *

><p>Remnants<p>

The headscarf is smooth beneath his fingertips, almost slippery as it slides through his hands and into Jim's. Jim spreads it flat across their bedspread, his fingers gently skimming over the skillfully embroidered Vulcan characters. After a few long moments, Spock folds the fabric back into a small, neat rectangle. He raises it to his nose, and can just barely detect the scent of his mother's Juniper perfume. He offers it to Jim, who does the same, but when Jim lowers the cloth, he shakes his head silently.

Spock cradles the scarf against his chest and leans into Jim's embrace.

* * *

><p>Joy<p>

He insists it is illogical, but Jim pulls him into the rain regardless, and within moments they are soaked through their clothing. Jim grabs both of his hands and begins spinning them in circles, his laughter clear and strong above the sound of the wind and thunder. Spock closes his eyes as the bond flares brightly in his mind, savoring the feeling of completion he never thought would be his. Jim startles his eyes open with a cool, slick kiss, his own eyes burning a playful blue. Jim throws himself against Spock, and they fall backwards into a muddy puddle.


	2. Chapter 2

Misappropriation

When he returns home from school, his mother is waiting for him in the solarium. He has done his best to conceal the bruises, and manages not to flinch when she squeezes him into a tight hug. Despite this, she seems to know. She always does.

His best efforts cannot make her smile, and she only cries when he tries to comfort her with touch. He retreats to his room soon after, the memory of his mother's tears seared into his mind, even after meditation.

It is a son's duty to protect his mother, and once again, he has failed.

* * *

><p>Stasis<p>

The end comes, as it always does, and Spock cannot find it in himself to be bothered by the circumstances. The bond, long dormant, flares to life once more, the cherished green whirl of Jim's thoughts battering through his shields. It starts him awake, and into the embassy to call in any and every favor Spock has acquired in his one hundred and forty two years of service. His hope, his _faith_, are finally being rewarded.

A scant hour and a half later, the bond crumbles to ash, and Spock is left gasping in the dark of his own mind.

* * *

><p>Discrepancies<p>

The biting chill of the fresh morning air flushes his cheeks and chafes his hands. He closes his eyes and remembers the first time he stood on these steps, young and unsure and hopelessly in love. Phantom heat encircles his shoulders- the memory of his t'hy'la throwing an arm around his neck, his mitted hand sweeping across the white blanketed vista.

_Beautiful, isn't it? _

Spock slowly opens his eyes, grief a familiar weight in his chest. Jim's counterpart stands silently beside him, and together they watch Spock kiss Nyota Uhura in the meadow, snow swirling through the air around them.


	3. Chapter 3

Perspective

The first time Spock smiles- really, truly _smiles_- Jim feels as if he's been sucker punched.

He's sure that Spock didn't mean for anyone to see it sans Uhura, who has a perfect viewpoint from their makeshift stage. But from behind the sheets-turned-curtains that serve as the wings, Jim peeps out into the crowd and sees the gentle expression light up the Vulcan's eyes and soften his features into something tender and reassuring.

Uhura's voice suddenly swells with strength. She must have noticed it too.

For the first time in his life, Jim finds a man beautiful.

* * *

><p>Commiseration<p>

Jim smiles and laughs with the rest of the crew, but the blood on his hands is still thick and vibrant, staining everyone he touches with the taint of his failure. As soon as possible he escapes, taking refuge in engineering; the pulsating hum of the _Enterprise's_ engines helps drown out the sound of his own self recriminations.

A while later, Spock joins him. Jim tenses, waiting for the inevitable platitudes and reassurances. Spock says nothing, simply sits beside him, close enough that their arms touch. An hour later, he speaks.

"I grieve with thee."

Something inside of Jim unfurls.

* * *

><p>Uncertainty<p>

Jim wets his lips, and then carefully reaches out to smooth Spock's hair down from its tousled disarray. His fingers trip over the warm skin of Spock's cheek, and down the curve of his jaw. Spock sighs quietly in his sleep, and leans into the contact.

Jim tentatively scoots across the mattress until the warmth radiating from Spock's body seeps into his own. He begins to loop an arm around Spock's waist, but hesitates before finally pulling back, resting his hand on his pillow. His lips disappear between his teeth as he shakes his head.

Holy fuck, is he screwed.


	4. Chapter 4

Nuance

The flash of the camera is sudden, but not wholly unexpected. Spock does not allow his irritation with Yeoman Rand's insistence on taking "candid" pictures to show on his face, but the captain must observe it regardless, because he confiscates the camera with a playful but steel-edged admonition, and orders Rand onto the dance floor. Not for the first time, Spock envies the easy way he dispatches people without causing offense. The captain flips through the pictures, a smile occasionally flickering over his face. He pauses on the last, his smile taking on a new depth that Spock cannot fathom.

* * *

><p>Insecurity<p>

There is a curiously anxious undercurrent in the affection of Nyota's kiss. Spock folds their hands together beneath the table in a show of reassurance, stroking his thumb across her knuckles. The smile she graces him with is small but seemingly untroubled, and her uncertainty eases. Spock returns his full attention to the conversation, and is surprised to find his Captain smirking at him across the dinner table.

"How _fascinating,_ Mister Baris. Tell me more about this quadrotriticale. It's the future of the Federation, you know."

Spock's lips twitch, briefly, before he is overwhelmed with the force of Nyota's alarm.

* * *

><p>Tokens<p>

It is a testament to his exhaustion the night before that he does not take note of the package on his desk until morning. It is wrapped in red, iridescent fabric that unfurls like a flower when he pulls on the bow holding it closed, revealing a hand-crafted, wooden box. Spock opens it carefully, his fingertips caressing its smoothly lacquered finish. Inside, a delicate glass ball is nestled between folds of supple black velvet. He cradles it in his hand and holds it up to the light, his eyes slowly tracing over the painstakingly etched features of the planet Vulcan.

* * *

><p>Good golly gosh, you guys. I am a HORRIBLE person. I never gave my beta Spockaholic props for editing this series for me! Kill me now.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Wonder

Jim loves the way Spock touches him. Hesitantly, as if he's afraid he's not allowed, as if Jim might pull away at any moment. Gently, careful not to let his grip bruise or his nails break skin. Reverently, possessively, like Jim is the most precious gift he never dared hope for, that he cannot believe he ever received, but intends to keep at all costs. Spock touches him, and Jim feels prized, feels vulnerable, feels powerful, the trichotomy of these feelings only natural because it's Spock who inspires them. Spock, who loves completely, against all logic. Spock, who loves _Jim_.

* * *

><p>Escape<p>

Spock kisses him in the Vulcan and Human way all at once, their hands clasped at their sides, fingers tangling and caressing along with their tongues. Jim gives himself over to it wholly, gives himself over to Spock, and in these moments there are no duty rosters to arrange or shifts on the bridge. There are no reports to review or file; there are no crew-members just outside the door, waiting to air grievances or receive orders. It is only them, lost in each other, given over to tenderness and care. It is only them, and Jim revels in it.

* * *

><p>Loss<p>

Jim presses himself against the glass as if it will melt away at his command, as if he can reach through it to pull Spock safe from his fate. But the force of his will is not force enough to bend the universe, and the glass remains a cold, solid barrier beneath his hands. Spock—beautiful, self-sacrificing Spock— reaches out with words and loyalty and love, trying to ease Jim's pain. Jim puts his fingers to the glass and longs to feel skin.

"No," he denies. "_No_," he begs.

Something inside of Jim—something arrogant and defiant and naïve—breaks.


	6. Chapter 6

Fortuitous

By chance, Spock turns just as the insurgent emerges from the trees. An instant before the gun fires, he shoves Jim aside. The acid pellets burst against his right pectoral, eating through flesh within seconds. He plummets to his knees and digs his fingers into the plush moss, forcing himself to breathe. There is phaser fire, frenzied shouting, curses, a human scream. The world falls silent and still, and then frantic hands turn him onto his back.

"Spock." Jim cups Spock's face in his hands. "Spock?"

Blood floods his throat and mouth; his reassurances are lost in a gurgle.

"_Spock!"_

* * *

><p>Unexpected<p>

Spock wakes to the hum of his heart monitor. He calculates the beats per second, takes stock of his injuries. He is nearly recovered. The soft squeak of boots across the floor alerts him to someone's presence a moment before his hand is gently encased by another's. A calloused thumb rubs soothingly over his wrist, occasionally straying to the base of his thumb. He feigns sleep, and allows his shields to drop even as he curses his weakness.

It is not Jim's aura that greets him. Spock's eyes snap open in surprise.

Nurse Chapel blushes and immediately releases his hand.

* * *

><p>Estimable<p>

"Thanks are unnecessary, Jim. It is a first officer's duty to protect his captain and shipmates at all costs."

Jim's weight is braced against his elbow, thumb hooked under his chin, his forefinger pressed against the seal of his lips. He smiles over the chess board, his expression subdued, but affectionate. "That's not what I'm thanking you for."

He drops his arm to rest on the table between them as he leans forward, his palm turned up slightly in what Jim cannot know is blatant, provocative invitation.

"I'm thanking you for…" Jim smiles, as if to himself. "For being you."


	7. Chapter 7

Impulse

The captain's presence on the other side of his door is unexpected.

He smiles, and lifts the tray in his hands. "I come bearing gifts."

Spock steps aside in invitation and follows Kirk to the dresser, where he sets the tray down and lifts the lid with a flourish.

"Voila!"

Spock studies the bowl of plomeek soup and fruit salad with puzzlement.

"You didn't really eat anything at the welcoming feast," Kirk explains with an easy grin. "It wasn't vegan, right? I had an ensign smuggle this down from the _Enterprise_ for you."

Spock does not smile. "Thank you, Jim."

* * *

><p>Denial<p>

Spock had assumed Jim would be alone.

The captain and Lieutenant Moreau hastily break apart, twin expressions of alarm flashing across their features. Spock experiences sudden, inexplicable discomfiture.

"Forgive me, Captain," he says.

"No, I—I should have locked the door." There is a strained pause, broken by the Lieutenant nervously clearing her throat.

"Spock—" the captain begins, his voice oddly distressed.

"I shall return at a more convenient time."

Nyota answers her door with a surprised smile, and responds delightedly when he kisses her. "What was that for?" she asks with a laugh.

Spock shakes his head, unsure.

* * *

><p>Typical<p>

The smooth, oblong pillar of amethyst juts up from the very center of the florescent lake, glowing softly in the setting sunlight.

"Beautiful," Jim murmurs with earnest wonder. He squeezes Spock's fingers briefly, affectionate gratitude seeping through his skin.

Their guide flushes gold with pleasure. She says with quiet pride, "K'ratha is our most sacred site. It remains to this day the only natural feature in our provenance unconquered by man."

The smile that spreads across Jim's face is one Spock has learned to dread.

"Is that so?"

Spock gazes up at the 1,856 meter sheer rock face with resignation.


End file.
